Leading the Pack
by Professor Cricket
Summary: Remus Lupin's three best friends decide to become Animagi to help him. But will they put themselves - and Remus - in terrible danger? Contains mild to moderate SBRL slash content. COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: Not my characaters, as I'm not JKR. I'm not making any money from this, either.**

**A/N: This story assumes the existence of a romantic relationship between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. There will be, in subsequent chapters, mild to moderate "slash" content. This chapter is rated PG-13 for an unpleasant transformation sequence.**

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**Leading the Pack**

"_I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust… he never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally…" – Remus Lupin, in Prisoner of Azkaban_

**Prologue**

"I just wish there was some way we could make you better."

"There isn't, Sirius. Not really. There's only –"

"What?"

"It's dangerous."

"Tell me anyway."

"No. Not yet."

**Later:**

"Oi, Lupin! What's that book you've got there?"

"Never you mind, James Potter."

"Peter said you checked it out from the Restricted section. How'd you manage that?"

"Never you mind about that either."

**Part One: The Least Haunted House in Britain**

Three twelve-year-old boys were huddled in an unlit hallway, in front of a battered wooden door. The door looked as though it could be blown over by a light sneeze, but it was held in place by the strongest charms, spells, and incantations that Albus Dumbledore could muster.

Something Dumbledore had left off, however – deliberately – was a silencing spell. The noise from within the room was perfectly audible, not only to the three boys outside it but also to the residents of the nearby village, Hogsmeade.

Finally, one of the boys – blond, plump, and smaller than the other two – spoke. "I hear the villagers think this place is haunted."When neither of the other boys replied, he went on, "In a way, they're right."

When this didn't solicit an answer, he continued: "They call it the Shrieking Shack."

Peter Pettigrew had known the other boys for just over a year, but he still hadn't figured out that when they ignored him, he should just keep quiet.

"They say –"

"Shut up, Peter."

Peter fell into an unhappy silence. The other two boys seemed lost in the hideous sounds emanating from the room beyond. The house was without light, and the other boys had not lighted their wands and forbidden Peter to use his. All Peter could see of his companions came from the reflected moonlight of a nearby window: both were tall for their age, lean, and dark-haired, and although they hadn't noticed it they were sitting in precisely the same pose. In fact, if not for the reflection off James Potter's glasses, Peter wouldn't have been able to distinguish him at all from Sirius Black.

There was a tremendous thud against the door, and it seemed as though the whole house shuddered. There was a scrabble of nails – not quite yet talons – on the other side. And screaming.

Begging.

"Please! Please! Please! Help me! I know you're there – help me – let me out – I need you – please don't leave me in here – please!"

A sob escaped from Sirius Black's mouth, and he jerked convulsively.

James Potter grabbed his friend by the arms, pushing him down, half afraid – more than half – that Sirius would acquiesce to the frantic pleas.

The voice on the other side of the door lowered in pitch but not in volume. Sometimes, past the midpoint of the transformation from boy to wolf, Remus Lupin was still capable of bursts of speech. As a body slammed against the door – and none of the boys wanted to think what that body looked like right now – a horrible, half-animal voice screamed at them.

"_Hunt_!"

After that, human vocal cords completely gone, the wolf that had been Remus Lupin merely shrieked and howled in inarticulate rage. Sometimes, the cries would suddenly muffle. Peter was secretly thankful for those moments when the cries lessened, though he knew he shouldn't be: it meant that the wolf was probably ripping itself to shreds. Werewolves hunted only humans, but the wolf didn't understand that it was also partly human. It could smell the humanity on its own limbs, and attacked itself.

There was another horrifying thump against the door, and Peter fancied he could hear wood splintering.

"What if the spells don't hold? What if he breaks through the door?"

"Don't worry, Peter, you'll live," said Sirius Black, but he didn't sound at all comforting when he said it.

"Do you think so?"

"Of course. I'm closest to the door: he'll come for me first. Then, when he's done savaging my ruined corpse, he'll turn on James, because James will be trying to get him off me. You should have plenty of time to escape."

Peter let out a sob, and James said, "Siri, don't be cruel to him. He's afraid."

"Then why is he here?"

"Because he's Remus' friend," said James gently. "That's why we're all here." He turned to Peter. "We're all afraid," he said with kindness. "It'll help if you remember what a powerful wizard Dumbledore is. We're perfectly safe where we are."

The screams and howls escalated, but all three boys knew they hadn't yet reached their peak.

Sirius Black placed his hand against the door, and rested his cheek just above it, his eyes closed. "It's Remus who's in the real danger," he said softly. His voice dropped to a whisper. "We're here, Remus," he said. "Your friends are here."

He nearly said, "We love you," but he didn't; he stopped himself. Sirius felt a comforting hand stroking his back; then James nudged him down from against the door.

"I want to show you something."

James Potter grabbed his schoolbag, and pulled out a book.

"So help me, Potter, if you're going to do homework, I'll –"

"Hush," said James, and Sirius fell silent at once. Against the backdrops of tortured howls, James brought out his wand, and said "_Lumos_." Light shone from the end of the wand, and Peter scooted toward it. He was in awe – not just of the light, but by the easy way that James had commanded it. He was still working on that charm – he could get the light to stay for a flicker or two, but no longer. The light emanating from James' wand was strong, steady.

"I thought we agreed no lights?" asked Sirius, but it was curiosity and not anger that filled his voice.

"This time, we have something worth seeing," said James. "You know that book that Lupin's been hoarding? The one he makes a show of reading, then won't let us see? I nicked it from under his mattress." He raised the light over the title of the book: _Animagus Transfigurations_.

"What's an – Ani – Anima –" started Peter.

"Animagus," said Sirius in a thick voice. "It's a wizard who can turn himself into an animal at will. You know, like McGonagall. It's very advanced magic. They don't even teach it until after you graduate, and even then you have to pass special tests just to prove you have the aptitude. And you have to be registered. Otherwise it's totally illegal. Unregistered Animagi – at least, those who survive – can be sent to Azkaban." But nonetheless he ran his hand over the gold lettering on the cover.

"I think we could do it," said James.

"It takes years of work."

"We _have_ years. Five and a half years, in fact. Depending how good we get, we could do it well before we graduate."

Sirius was still stroking the book cover, as though it were a long-lost pet.

"Um, why – why do we want to be – Animagmusses?" asked Peter.

Neither of the other boys bothered to correct his pronunciation, but James said, "We could stay on the other side of the door with him. We could keep him company. We could keep him from hurting himself."

"_What_? Are you mad?"

There was another terrific thump against the door, and the cries became even louder.

"Werewolves only attack humans," said James patiently.

"_We're_ humans."

"But werewolves don't know the difference between animals and Animagi," said Sirius. "The wolf would just see other animals. It wouldn't be compelled to kill or bite them."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Sirius Black. "I read all those books on werewolves, remember?"

"And they talked about Ani – Ani –"

"An-ih-MAY-guy," said Sirius slowly. "No, they didn't. But only because no one's tried it before."

"So we'll be the first," said James.

"Agreed."

Both boys looked at Peter, who blinked at them, then nodded, more because he was afraid of being left out than anything else.

Sirius smiled at him, one of the rare times that he seemed pleased with Peter. "You can be a little dormouse, Petey. That way, if we're wrong, he probably won't even notice you."

"Be nice to him, Siri."

"I am!"

There was a moment of quiet, of calm, and the boys realized that the howls from inside the room had stopped.

"No way it's dawn," whispered Peter.

"Dawn's hours away," replied Sirius in hushed tones. Dimly, they became aware of a snuffling sound on the other side of the door. The wolf had caught their scents. It wanted them.

_Hunt_.

The growling began, low and deep and throaty, and sent corkscrew shivers down each boy's back. Then there was a barking, almost doglike. If you tried, really tried – and Peter was really trying – you could pretend that it was just a big barking dog, not a bloodthirsty predator.

Sirius, against all logic, stroked the door affectionately. He spoke to the wolf on the other side. "Soon," he promised. "We'll be in there with you soon."


	2. An Animal by Any Other Name

Leading the Pack, Part 2

Part Two: An Animal by Any Other Name…

Remus Lupin climbed through the hole behind the portrait and into the Gryffindor common room. He looked around: there were quite a few people about, but not the one he was looking for. He found two of his dorm-mates. "James, Peter – either of you seen Sirius?"

"Not for ages, mate," said James Potter, a little dreamily. He was ostensibly studying a textbook, but Lupin had the feeling he had something else wedged into the pages of the book. It smelled like Muggle newsprint – maybe a magazine – but he couldn't be sure.

"He's upstairs," said Peter Pettigrew brightly. "In our room."

Potter looked surprised. "I didn't see him come in."

Peter snorted. "You were looking at the pictures in your _book_." He grinned as if he knew a wicked little secret, and James blushed slightly.

Remus sighed. "Well, thanks, Pete," he said. "I don't know what's got into him. He said at dinner he had something to show me, then disappeared. I looked for him in all the usual places but I couldn't find him."

The usual places, the other Marauders knew, included the kitchens (where, although he wouldn't have admitted it, Lupin himself probably got sidetracked), a wall that Sirius Black was convinced housed the entrance to a secret passage out of the castle, and assorted favorite snogging spots where the two boys would rendezvous. "I even tried the library," Lupin allowed.

"You must have been desperate, then," laughed James. Sirius Black had, in fact, been known to spend many industrious hours in the library, but rarely were those hours connected to his actual classwork. In addition to a considerable talent for mischief, Sirius also had an extraordinary memory: he could sit in class, never take notes, sometimes not even apparently pay attention, yet could repeat the lecture back verbatim. He shrugged it off as a parlor trick, and seemed unimpressed that he could do it. As far as he was concerned, the only value of perfect recall was that it freed him up to have more fun.

"Well, I've worn myself out walking the grounds looking for him," said Lupin, irritation clouding his voice. "I'm going to bed, unless whatever it is he has to show me is pretty spectacular."

Peter stood up. "He said we're all supposed to go."

"Fine. Great. Let's go." Remus led the way up the stairs to their room, then snorted in annoyance. "You sure you saw him come in, Peter? Cuz he's not here." Lupin tossed his schoolbag carelessly through the curtains that hung around his bed, and was answered by a deep-throated huff.

All three boys froze for a moment; then James closed the door behind him, pointed his wand at it, and muttered an Imperturbable Charm. There would be no interruptions now.

Lupin carefully approached his bed, and drew back the curtains. There, lying across the scarlet duvet, was a large, black, almost bearlike dog.

"He can't buy you a dog," whined Peter. "It's against school rules. You can have a cat, or an owl, or a toad, but not –"

"It's not a dog," said James softly. "It's Sirius."

The dog met James' eyes, and nodded.

"I thought Remus said he was going to be a tiger?" asked Peter.

"I only guessed," said Lupin, "because of the way he walks. But when I dream about him…"

Remus sat on his bed beside the dog. "You did it," he said, his voice barely even a whisper. "You're an Animagus." Hesitantly, he reached out. At first, he simply placed a still hand on the dog's midsection. He laughed out loud, giddy at the feel of the soft fur. Slowly, he began to pat the dog, to stroke it. The dog made a happy noise and thumped his tail on the bed.

Lupin looked truly delighted. "I've never patted a dog before," he said softly. "At least, not that I can remember. Most animals run away from me." He moved his hand to the back of one of the dog's ears and scratched. The dog let out a low moan of approval, and jerked a back leg in response. Remus giggled.

James sat down on the bed too, and took a turn stroking the dog, a look of awe still on his face. "You did it, Sirius," he murmured. "You really did it. Bloody brilliant."

James caught Lupin's eye. "I'm not far behind him, you know. I should be ready in a couple of weeks."

"Please don't rush anything," said Remus urgently. "As much as this means to me, I don't want you to get hurt."

"When I'm ready, and not before," promised James.

Peter let out a disappointed whine. "I don't think I'll ever be ready."

"Nonsense," said James gently. "Sirius and I will help you." He scratched the top of the dog's head. "Won't we, Siri?"

Peter sat down now, too, at the foot of the bed. He gazed at the dog for a while, then asked, "What's his name?"

"Sirius, of course," said James.

"No, I mean, what's the _dog's_ name?"

James' voice took on a quality of strained patience. "Peter, the dog _is_ Sirius."

Now it was the littler boy's turn to be annoyed. "I know that," he said, "but the Animagus form can't have the same name as the human. Something about the spell. It interrupts the transfiguration, or something."

The dog barked in agreement.

Remus giggled again and grabbed the dog's ears playfully. "Does oo need a name?" he cooed. "Is him need a name?"

There was a shocked silence – from Peter and James, anyway – and finally Peter said, "Maybe he left a note."

"Him don't need note!" babbled Remus happily. "I name!"

Peter caught James' eye. "Why is he talking like a house elf?" James shook his head.

"Him name Snuffles!" Remus announced. As the other wizards gaped at, Lupin rubbed his forehead on the dog's muzzle. "Isn't oo? Isn't oo my ickle Snuffles?"

Peter clapped both his hands against his mouth, though whether it was to keep from screaming in horror or laughing James couldn't guess.

For his part, James gently separated boy and dog. "Um, Remus," he said softly, "I know he's an extremely convincing dog, and of course you and Sirius are –_you know_ – but ultimately – well, that is to say – there's a certain level of, of, dignity – of decorum – that needs to be maintained –"

"You're not going to snog the dog, are you?" asked Peter bluntly. "Because that's what it looks like."

Remus drew back, looking sadly at the dog, and suddenly James hated himself. They were doing this _for_ Remus; why was he interrupting the other boy's enjoyment of this moment?

Remus seemed on the verge of tears. But he kept his hands on the dog's face, twisting his fingers around so he could scratch the base of the dog's ears, rubbing the soft fur below the eyes with his thumbs.

"You're a dog," he said softly. "A _dog_. We can run together. Maybe – maybe – _play_. I'd never hurt you." And then the tears began to fall.

There was a slight shift, a pale glow as the fabric of reality altered. Then suddenly, just as if the dog had never been there, the face Lupin was grasping in his hands was that of Sirius Black.

Black pulled his lover into his arms.

"I know you'd never hurt me," he said softly. "I know."


	3. Wolf and Dog

**Disclaimer: Not mine. No money made.**

**Chapter summary: Sirius risks everything for Remus when Padfoot faces the Wolf.**

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**Part Three: Wolf and Dog **

It was just after dusk: the moon wasn't set to rise for a few more hours. Two fifteen-year-old boys tramped along a rough-hewn dirt tunnel, finally emerging on the ground floor of a ramshackle house. Both boys were tall, lean, muscular, and dark-haired. By coincidence, each had decided – independently of the other – to grow his hair long over the summer. The result was that they remained nearly identical in profile and general appearance, and in the faltering light only those who knew both well would not be hard-pressed to tell the difference.

They climbed the stairs, heading toward a room on the top floor. Their feet carried them automatically: it was a journey each had made many, many times before. They didn't speak, not out of mutual anger or fear or worry, but just because they didn't need to. They'd already talked, and nothing more needed to be said: a comfortable silence. In fact, their body language – so closely mirrored in any case – was so casual that they might have been going for a friendly stroll along a lake, or to the village, or possibly just wandering aimlessly.

They reached the top of the stairs, then headed toward the door they wanted. Both had been inside the room on many occasions, but never at night: only at dawn, as they collected the ravaged body of their friend, trying to ignore the blood and chunks of fur on the floor. If Madam Pomfrey, the school's healer, had ever wondered how the exhausted boy she tended to the mornings after a full moon managed to wash and dress his wounds – in at least a rudimentary way – comb his hair, and arrange himself neatly in bed, she never showed it.

At first, all three of Remus Lupin's closest friends – the only ones who knew his secret – were small enough to hide when she came, especially if Peter was doing his job of lookout properly and gave them fair warning. Peter had been assigned the permanent job of lookout because Sirius and James had long since discovered that the smaller boy had no stomach for the task of caring for Remus after a change; they adopted the task themselves. Both boys were from pureblood wizarding families, and had precious little familiarity with Muggle medicine. It was strange to them both, but nonetheless safer than casting difficult healing spells; so they taught themselves the basics for Remus' sake.

In time, as the boys reached puberty, weight gain and growth spurts meant that all three of them couldn't hide in the room any longer: there was only one really adequate hiding place left. So Peter's lookout job changed from warning them of Madam Pomfrey's immediate arrival to letting them know when she left the castle. Then, Peter and one of the other boys – James and Sirius alternated monthly – would head back to Gryffindor Tower, and one boy would stay behind with Remus, hiding from Madam Pomfrey at the last minute. Of course, it would have been much easier for all three to leave together, but somehow neither Sirius nor James seemed to be able to conceive of the idea of leaving Remus all alone, even for a few minutes. And if one or the other the Marauders skived off a morning class from time to time – well, as Sirius had pointed out to Remus, if he personally missed class only one morning every two months, it would be a miracle.

Now it was dusk, and neither James nor Sirius had ever seen the room at that time of day. But if either boy was tentative or hesitant, he refused to show it in front of his friend.

Sirius tapped gently on the door, then opened it. He and James stepped in, greeting a mortified Remus Lupin. Lupin grabbed a pillow –they were savaged and replaced each month – and held it in front of his midsection.

"Such modesty," said James, faintly amused, but not teasing. "We see you naked once a month, you know."

"Yes, but I'm unconscious then. It doesn't count."

"Sirius sees you naked every chance he gets."

"That's not the same," Lupin insisted.

"We were naked all the time during the heat wave, too," James reminded him.

"Still doesn't count. I wasn't about to change all the time. This is just… different, okay?"

Sirius was still staring at him. "I didn't know you took off your clothes to transform."

"Well, of course! I don't have an unlimited wardrobe!"

"I didn't think about that," said Sirius thoughtfully. "I keep my clothes on."

"Congratulations."

"I didn't mean –" Sirius started, then stopped himself. It was full moon night: Remus had every reason to be tense, frustrated, bitter, afraid, angry, or anything else he wanted to be. "I'm going to stay with you," he said simply.

Remus gaped at him. "You're _what_?"

"Going to stay with you."

"You can't!" He dropped onto the bed miserably. "I never thought it through to this point before, never imagined we'd be here…" His voice faded out.

"Remus," said James reasonably, "that was the whole point of becoming Animagi. I haven't quite mastered it yet – I will soon – but that's no reason Sirius can't stay with you."

Remus' eyes filled with tears. "Sirius, you can't. I'll kill you. I couldn't live with myself."

"Why would the Wolf kill a dog?"

"The Wolf wouldn't," said Remus, "and I wouldn't. But – the – the _Between_…"

"The Between?"

Remus sighed. He sat down on the ruined bed. "Transforming into a werewolf isn't like your Animagus transfiguration. It… takes a lot longer."

"We know, Remus," said James softly. "We've sat outside that door every full moon night since the middle of second year."

Remus nodded miserably. He had never asked them to, never felt more grateful than when they did. "I – I don't go from one to another all at once. It… takes a while. There are different stages." He shivered, though not from cold. "There are different states of existence along the way. For a lot of it, I'm mostly me. Then I'm part me and part Wolf, and then the Wolf finally takes over. But for a long time, in the middle… I'm the Between."

He swallowed hard. "I'm not me. I'm not the Wolf. I can't control myself, but I don't have fully animal responses, either. I'm this… _thing_."

Sirius sat down next to his boyfriend.

"I'm not afraid, Remus. I'm willing to be here for that."

Remus shook his head again. "You don't understand. When I'm the Between – that's when things get ripped up. Whatever's at hand. I don't do violence to myself 'til I'm the Wolf. But when I'm the Between – anything near me gets shredded." He looked into Sirius eyes. "I'd kill you. I wouldn't want to, I would always hate myself, but I wouldn't be able to stop the Between."

Sirius slid his arm around Lupin's bare shoulders, trying to comfort him. He let his lips brush lightly across his lover's face. "There has to be a way," he whispered. "I didn't become an Animagus so I could sit outside your bedroom and listen to you suffer in dog form."

"We'll both stay behind," said James. "After you've transformed into the Wolf, Sirius will become a dog. I'll open the door for him, and close it again once he's in."

"What if I attack in the meantime?"

"Sirius can cover me."

The other black-haired boy nodded. "It's a plan."

Remus shook his head. "What if I caught you?"

Sirius looked at him gravely. "I won't let you catch him."

"Meantime," said James, pulling a packet of cards from beneath his robes, "Exploding Snap." He looked at two amazed faces.

"We have some time to kill," he said.

As James fiddled with the cards, Remus thought of something, and gently, chastely, kissed Sirius on the lips. "By the way… if the dog isn't my ickle Snuffles… what is his name?"

"Padfoot," answered Sirius.

Sirius decided not to play Exploding Snap; instead, he transformed into Padfoot. Lupin sat on the floor across from James, the pillow in his lap, cradling Padfoot, burying his face in the dog's fur, trying to learn and remember the scent. Every time he inhaled, Remus thought a single word: _Mine_. He hoped the Wolf would remember. Padfoot, for his part, occasionally gifted Remus with wet sloppy licks, marking the boy as his territory, trying to claim him with scent.

Suddenly Remus gasped. The gasp turned to a groan, and he doubled over at the waist. Padfoot leaped up instantly, barking a warning to James, pushing him up and toward the door. The dog tried to stay behind with Remus; James had to grab him by the scruff of the neck and pull him out.

"Padfoot! I'm going to let you back in, remember? When it's safe."

The dog whined, and scrabbled at the door with his paws.

James sighed, and took his accustomed place on the floor in front of the door. Watching Padfoot rub up against the door, whining, wanting in, James realized something strange: in the years they'd been coming here, he, Sirius, and Peter always sat in the same places in front of the door, as though where they sat as they waited were part of a ritual. The realization made him strangely uncomfortable. He shook his head free of the thought: he was just nervous about tonight, about opening the door to the Wolf, about sending his friend in to danger.

"It won't matter if I'm killed," Sirius had joked before they left the dorm, "My mother won't mind a bit. She might even give you some gold. Wouldn't eat anything Kreacher cooked for you, though. He's the only thing in the house crazier than my mother."

"You're not going to be killed, Sirius," James had said, trying to sound comforting.

He tried to comfort Padfoot now, as the dog whined and moaned, scrabbling against the door. He stroked the dog's back, andthe dogturned and gazed at him with a look so pitiable that James wanted to sob.

"Soon, Padfoot, soon," he said. "Come here. We'll listen together, then I'll let you in when it's time."

James pulled the large dog toward him, circled his arms around him, stroking him. Suddenly the dog pulled away from him, baring his teeth, growling softly. James stared at the dog – at his friend – wide-eyed. The dog whined, thumped his tail on the ground, and made an exaggerated snuffling noise. James realized that the dog didn't want to have a competing scent on its body – only that of the boy in the other room.

"I get it," said James softly.

The dog settled back against the opposite wall, whining. Gradually, the noises on the other side of the door tapered off, but James knew from experience that the transformation wasn't over, not by a long shot: this temporary lull was merely the calm before the storm, before Remus' final struggle to cling on to his humanity, before he would scream at them to free him.

In the quiet, the dog became quite distracted.He lifted a leg above his head, and noisily began to clean his crotch.

James stared at him.

"Sirius, that is easily the most disgusting thing you've ever done."

The dog looked up at him sharply, wearing an expression that looked remarkably like surprise. The look of surprise slowly faded into what James would have sworn was embarrassment; the leg came down, and the dog looked away, toward the window, refusing to meet James' eyes.

The pounding on the other side of the door started, and the dog gnashed his teeth reflexively.

"Bet you're bloody grateful you don't have your cock in your mouth now," muttered James, but not loudly enough to be audible over Remus Lupin's pathetic screams.

"Please, please, please! You're my friends! I'm dying! Oh, God, don't leave me in here, I need you… please help me… please…"

Then mindless shrieks: the Between did not speak to them that night.

Finally, the transformation over, James was able to hear the fully-formed Wolf on the other side of the door, snuffling and growling. James stood. The door opened outward, and James planned to stand behind it as he opened it, to give himself what protection he could from the Wolf. Padfoot stood at the entrance, close to the doorframe where the space would be once the door was opened. He sniffed deeply several times, then nodded to James.

James wrenched open the door; the dog bounded in, knocking something over along the way: the Wolf, probably. James slammed the door shut. He hadn't even seen the Wolf.

He sat down on the floor again, and waited. Why had he told them he'd leave once Padfoot was inside? Maybe to comfort Remus in some way; he wasn't certain. He'd wait here, as he always did.

He strained to hear sounds on the other side of the door. There was an awful lot of loud sniffing, but no barks, no growls, no threats being made or challenges being answered.

He waited.

Presently he heard another sound: footfalls on steps. He turned, and saw Peter Pettigrew coming up the stairs.

"How was detention?" James asked as Peter flung himself on the floor.

"Hideous. Worse than hideous. Don't ask." He looked around. "Where's Sirius?"

"Inside already."

Peter exhaled slowly. "Is he okay?"

"He seems to be, so far." James explained about the Between, and letting Padfoot into the room.

Peter shook his head, agog. "How're you going to know when to let him out?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, this Between thing – isn't Remus going to be the Between again when he changes _back_?"

James stared at the plump boy in horror.

"So how are you going to get him out?" Peter asked again.

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The Wolf eyed the dog suspiciously. Wolf and dog circled each other, each looking for any sign of weakness: something to exploit, something to use to claim dominance. Sirius was desperately nervous; he fought to relax, and to let Padfoot's mind – Padfoot's instincts – do the work. If he over-thought the situation, he could send the wrong signals, and get himself into deep trouble.

Dog and Wolf, Wolf and dog: they circled each other, never losing eye contact, sniffing constantly. Suddenly the Wolf stood still, so still that it might have been a statue rather than a living being. But despite the incredible stillness, the animal radiated a sense of power, of force, of _motion_.

Padfoot blinked.

The Wolf leapt.

Padfoot barely had time to react; then he was flung to the floor of the Shack. He struggled, rolling, trying to flip the Wolf over, fighting for dominance.

Padfoot was a large dog, and very strong; but in the end, the battle went to the Wolf. The Wolf forced Padfoot onto his back, and, laying his full body weight across the dog, clamped his jaws around Padfoot's throat.

Padfoot went stone still. The teeth held his throat firmly, but flesh had not been breached, blood had not been drawn.

The Wolf inhaled deeply. Deep inside its lupine brain, it recognized a familiar scent.

_Mine_ is a simple concept to translate into wolfish understanding, but it is also vague. _Mine_ can apply to different members of the pack, with gradations in importance. _Packmates_ rely on one another, hunt together, fend off attackers together: _packmate_ can be _mine_, but the relationship is a practical, rather than an emotional, idea. Wolves also know the concept of _mate_. _Mate_ is the intimate companion, the one you live your life with, even if the rest of the pack chooses to divide and go their separate ways. In its way, _mate_ is more than simply _mine_.

The Wolf was satisfied that it had demonstrated dominance, but was still trying to understand how it related to the dog: _packmate_ or _mate_? The Wolf inhaled deeply again, and felt the dog tremble beneath it. Deciding that the trembling represented anticipation, not fear, the Wolf chose: _mate_.

The Wolf released the dog's throat from the grip of its teeth, pulled itself off the dog. Padfoot had the good sense to remain on his back, belly up, promising submission. The Wolf circled the dog, sniffed it more thoroughly, slowly and carefully. When the Wolf reached the dog's crotch, it inhaled deeply, then began to lick.

Padfoot whimpered.

The Wolf raised its head, and gave a huff that Padfoot recognized as permission to roll over onto his stomach. He did so; and immediately, before the dog could struggle onto his feet, the Wolf mounted him.

For a brief, shocked moment, it was not Padfoot but Sirius who was aware and in charge of the large dog. Sirius, who was used to topping; Sirius, who was used to being a dominant animal.

But still afraid of giving the wrong signals to the Wolf, Sirius forced his brain to shut down again, and made Padfoot to come to the fore.

Padfoot accepted the submissive role, accepted the mating. The Wolf made a few more artless thrusts into Padfoot's body – it was more interested in settling the boundaries of the relationship than in giving or getting pleasure – and then dismounted.

The Wolf gave a happy-sounding bark; Padfoot answeredin kind.

The lines drawn, the mating complete, the Wolf turned to a much more important matter, something it had been deprived of entirely too long. It wanted to play.

Dog and Wolf, Wolf and dog: they wrestled, flipping each other over; they ran around, chasing one another; they exchanged joyous yips and barks.

For the first time in over a decade, the Wolf was too distracted to damage itself.


	4. Leading the Pack

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Making no money.**

**Summary: Sirius has become an Animagus - but will his transformation do more harm than good?**

* * *

**Part Four: Leading the Pack**

"Arrogant," said James Potter, his voice thick with disgust. "Arrogant, reckless, stupid, rash, brainless…" His voice trailed off bitterly.

"I – I don't understand," said Peter timidly, hoping the sudden invective wasn't aimed at him. James had fallen silent after Peter had asked how they were going to get Padfoot out of the room again, and Peter had long since learned not to interrupt those particular silences.

"I am," said James, "Arrogant, stupid, reckless, all of it. I just killed my best friend."

There were a few happy yips from the other side of the door.

"It doesn't sound like it," said Peter hopefully.

"Not yet," said James grimly. "But it will."

The night had passed relatively peacefully, or at least it seemed to have. There was a lot of thumping from the other side of the door, as though furniture was being overturned – but carelessly, accidentally, not in rage. There were some shared barks that almost sounded like laughter; occasional whines; and at one point a weird noise somewhere between a howl and a whine. Neither James nor Peter had ever heard it before, so they assumed it had come from Padfoot; but nonetheless it didn't sound terror-filled or as though Sirius were in danger.

There were some more whines, softer this time; then a long silence. James and Peter both sat up straighter – something seemed different.

There was a large creaking noise; then the door opened, and Sirius Black looked out.

"It's over," he whispered. "He's unconscious."

James leapt up and grabbed Sirius in a tight embrace, nearly delirious with joy. "He – he didn't turn into the Between again?"

Sirius shuddered, and gently disentangled himself from the crush of his friend's arms. "He did," said Sirius softly. "But he passed out first. Then it just sort of… happened." His face, pale already after the night's exertions, lost a little more color.

"Bad?" whispered James.

Sirius merely nodded. The mutations had been ghastly to watch, but he wasn't able to look away. Limbs stretched and contorted, elongating and reshaping. Bones moved violently beneath the skin, muscles and blood vessels churning around them. Sirius had been grateful that his friend was unconscious during the transformation back.

He led James and Peter into the room. Remus was already on the bed, curled up into a ball.

"I convinced the Wolf to lie down before he passed out," said Sirius. James opened his schoolbag, and began pulling out the usual Muggle remedies they'd brought along. A cursory inspection told him there wasn't much damage.

"Looks like he's only got some bites on his arms," said James, "and they don't look too deep at all."

"I think I did some of those," said Sirius, blushing a little. "The Wolf likes to wrestle. I think he's missed having a pack."

Peter opened his schoolbag, too. Normally, his sole contribution to Remus' recovery was the gift of a chocolate frog. This time he produced two, and handed one to Sirius. "I figured you could use it," he said simply.

Sirius took the sweet, expressed his gratitude, and practically sucked it down. "That was really good," he murmured.

Peter had moved to a window. "Hey, fellows," he said, "it's nowhere near dawn. It's still dark out." He looked back at Remus. "You don't think he's going to change again, do you?"

Sirius shook his head. "The moon has set already."

There was a pause, as James did a quick mental calculation. "Sunrise isn't for another couple hours," he said softly. "We always waited 'til sunrise. We didn't calculate moonfall. Not once," he said, starting to sound distressed. "Not once in three years."

"Is that bad?" asked Peter softly.

"It means that there are times we could have come in sooner," said James softly. "Instead, we just left him lying there, on the floor. Bleeding. Hurt. But we could've come in sooner."

"But we didn't _know_," protested Peter.

"We just didn't _think_," said Sirius. "We thought we were being his friends. Instead we just let him suffer." A few hours here, a few hours there; over the months and years it added up to – how much? Days? Weeks?

"But Madam Pomfrey never comes before sunrise," said Peter. "So she left him there, too."

"I still don't feel any better about it," said James. By this time James and Sirius had tucked Remus under the covers of the bed, and Sirius was smoothing the insensible boy's hair down with trembling fingers.

"But the rest of it worked, didn't it?" said Peter. "You helped him. He didn't hurt himself like he usually does."

"That's true," said James. "We should be grateful it worked." He stared at Sirius. "I'm bloody grateful you're alive, mate."

Sirius flashed him a smile. "Thanks." He breathed in hard. They had hours to go before sunrise, and the room, while messy, wasn't bloodstained or gory. Peter seemed quite comfortable there. But Sirius wanted him to leave, to go, so he could talk to James alone.

He found himself not wanting to share this with Peter.

"How was it, Sirius?"

"Bloody amazing." He rubbed his eyes.  
"You look awful," said James, "exhausted. You should lie down. We'll wake you before Madam Pomfrey comes."

Sirius nodded. He lay across the foot of the bed, stretching out lengthwise. James transfigured the chocolate frog wrapper into a pillow and snuggled it under Sirius' head. As Sirius began to drowse, he heard James say, "Peter, we've got some time before you need to play lookout. Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?"

Sirius slept deeply and dreamlessly. He sleep was so profound that for a few worried moments James had thought he was unconscious, perhaps hurt; but Sirius flicked open his eyes once James pulled him into a sitting position.

"Oi, mate!" hissed James. "Madam Pomfrey's coming. Peter and I are going. You need to go hide in the niche."

Sirius rubbed his eyes. "I will. I swear!" he added grumpily, seeing the look on James' face. "Just go, okay?"

James hugged his friend quickly, then slipped quietly out of the room.

_They must've left it 'til really late_, thought Sirius. He fell back asleep precisely where James had found him.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, and he jolted awake. He turned onto his back, and found himself looking into Madam Pomfrey's face.

"Good morning, Mr. Black," she said quietly. "I wasn't sure whether it was you or Mr. Potter. You haven't bothered to hide from me today."

Sirius gaped at her; finally he managed to say, "I was too tired to move."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, as though this were a perfectly acceptable explanation. In fact, her whole behavior indicated that Sirius' presence was entirely normal.

"Are you at all injured, dear?" she asked.

Sirius shook his head. He was still stunned, but alert enough to notice she'd called him 'dear.' She was rarely so comforting to her patients, as though she believed a stern lecture about avoiding accidents was as good a medicine as healing spells. Sirius was much more accustomed to lectures from her on the pointlessness of his frequent Quidditch-related injuries. She never called him 'dear' in those admonitions.

Madam Pomfrey left his side, and turned her attention to Remus. "And how is Mr. Lupin this morning?"

She clearly expected an answer, but Remus Lupin was still in no condition to give it. So Sirius said, "He had a pretty good night last night. He… he didn't seem to hurt himself too much."

Madam Pomfrey said a few healing spells over Remus' still-unawakened form; the few cuts and bruises began to look less livid. "Well, that'll take a few hours to fully heal," she said, nevertheless sounding quite satisfied. "But you're used to the process, aren't you, dear? I can trust you to get him back to the castle, yes?"

Sirius stared at her.

"You – you – you _know_?"

Madam Pomfrey laughed, as though he'd told her a truly delightful joke. "Of _course_ I know! Good Merlin, lad," she said, "Do you think I'm dim? I'd been treating him for a year and a half, when one morning I come in here, and instead of finding him on the floor he's neatly tucked into bed, and someone had put Muggle bandages on him. He wasn't in any condition to do it himself. It had to be his friends."

Sirius' heart raced. The reason they'd always hidden when she came was the punishment they feared if their monthly vigils at the Shrieking Shack were discovered. They'd never asked permission, knowing it would be denied. "Are you going to tell Dumbledore?"

"My dear boy, he's known for years. Ever since I first found that someone else had started looking after Mr. Lupin."

"He… he never stopped us?"

"Why would he?"

"And he never said anything to us!"

She smiled at him warmly. "I suppose he wanted you to have your little secret." She looked back at Remus. "Do try to get him back to the castle in time for lunch, won't you, Mr. Black?"

And with that, she swept out of the room.

Sirius sat and stared at the door for a while; then he looked back at the inert form of his boyfriend. Remus was breathing steadily, and the sheets that James and Sirius had tucked around him rose and fell in a stable rhythm. Sirius crawled up the length of the bed, and lay down next to Remus, resting his head on the same pillow. He stretched out, face down on top of the covers, his body curving against Lupin's. He reached out, and flung an arm over his lover's midsection.

It was a familiar, comfortable position, dating back to their second year at Hogwarts, their first year of real friendship. Sirius had heard crying and whimpering from the smaller boy's curtained bed, and had found Remus crying in his sleep. Acting on some impulse he had never really understood, Sirius had crawled into Remus' bed and cuddled against him. The crying had calmed; then stopped. Sirius eventually fell asleep there, and in the morning Remus Lupin was neither shocked nor embarrassed by his presence.

It became an unspoken habit from then on, not one practiced nightly, but often enough to call it a habit. Sometimes Remus would crawl into Sirius' bed; sometimes it was the other way around. But they frequently slept snuggled against one another.

Then they'd become lovers.

As Remus slumbered on, Sirius made a careful study of his boyfriend's face, and of the play of light and shadow on it as the sun rose higher into the sky.

_So beautiful. So very, very beautiful. Such a pretty boy – so tempting – finely curved eyelashes, a full mouth…_

His eyes stole ever downwards to the form outlined beneath the thin sheets.

_Delicate shoulders… slender waist, slim hips…_

The Wolf had been a gorgeous, deep silver color, a color vaguely remembered from countless shared demi-dreams. But just as Remus had expected that his lover would transfigure into a tiger, Sirius had somehow imagined his lover's alter-form as a small, tawny-colored wolf. Small and preferring to be submissive, like his human self. The Wolf's size, strength, and dominance had been unexpected.

And invigorating.

It was going to be different between them somehow, Sirius knew that instinctively, but he wasn't afraid of what the change might bring. Different, but better.

The Wolf's initial claiming of Padfoot had been perfunctory, as though the Wolf were simply saying, "There, it's done." But the Wolf hadn't stopped there; three more times during their play, the Wolf had claimed Padfoot as his mate. The second time, Padfoot had been unsure what the Wolf wanted: the Wolf had tried pushing him down, but he'd lain all the way down, preventing access. Then the Wolf had tried to raise Padfoot's hindquarters, only for the dog to stand all the way up. The Wolf had given a frustrated bark, and thrown the dog again, and repeated the ritual from the first time. It had been nearly as mechanical as their first coupling.

But Padfoot learned quickly. The third time, he'd understood what the Wolf wanted from him, and had raised his rear into the air while kneeling down on his forelegs. The Wolf had rewarded him with tender nips and licks, but paid attention only to his own satiation before dismounting and wanting to play some more.

The final time… the final time, Padfoot had offered himself to the Wolf, backing up slowly, his rear raised. And the Wolf had responded with appreciation: the final mating had been slow, luxurious, attentive. The Wolf had coaxed a howl of pleasure from the dog… from the boy inside the dog.

Sirius reached over, and softly traced the outline of his boyfriend's lips. Then he gently placed his mouth on Remus'. He felt a surge of guilt: even though Remus was his willing lover, and though he'd always been tender with the werewolf after a transformation, Sirius had never before crossed the boundary from caregiver to lover on a morning after. The mere idea had somehow seemed profane, as though he would be taking advantage of Remus' weakened state.

Remus stirred beneath him, and Sirius deepened the kiss, hoping to overcome his own feelings of guilt with passion. He brushed his tongue against the other boy's lips, and felt the mouth open, welcoming him. Remus reached up, and lazily ran his fingers through Sirius' hair. He sent his tongue to meet Sirius', too, and to play with it.

Slowly, Sirius ended the kiss, gently caressing the side of his boyfriend's face as he pulled away. Remus' eyes fluttered open, and he smiled faintly.

"'S nice way to wake up," he murmured.

"I'm glad you liked it."

"Mmmhmmm." Then he inhaled suddenly, and tried to pull himself into a sitting position. "Last night –"

"Bloody brilliant," said Sirius.

"I – I – on top of you –_inside_ you–"

"Loved it."

"You're not angry?"

"Why would I be angry, Remus?"

"We've never done it that way as – as humans. I always bottom."

"You don't have to." He kissed the tip of Remus' nose. "I was surprised at first, I won't deny that. But, yeah… it was good. Especially the last time." He pulled Remus into his lap, and kissed him again. The other boy, tired as he was, nonetheless wrapped himself around Sirius.

The kiss ended, and they separated, both panting.

"Madam Pomfrey," murmured Remus.

"Moony, I'm crushed! Were you just thinking of her?"

Remus playfully batted his boyfriend's chest. "I just mean she'll be coming soon." He held up an admonishing finger before Sirius could speak. "Coming to see me, I mean."

"She's been and gone. We're alone."

Remus sighed, and leaned against him. For a moment, Sirius thought he was being flirtatious; then he realized the other boy was still overwhelmed by exhaustion. He gently lowered Remus back onto the pillows.

"Sleep, love," Sirius murmured. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Sirius did indeed get Remus back to the Great Hall in time for lunch, though the meal was half-finished when they arrived. Both boys were pale and weak, but since Sirius' exhaustion came merely from running around all night as Padfoot, he was enjoying a quicker recovery. Still, his rising spirits and increasing healthiness didn't stop him from looking after his boyfriend tenderly, insisting that Remus eat just a few bites more.

Part of the problem was the heat: it was October, so there should have been at least a hint of fall in the air. Instead, the weather appeared to have decided that it was mid-August.

Sirius and James walked Remus back to the dorm after lunch. The room was scorching in the unseasonable heat, but Remus insisted on staying. James was uncomfortable, though neither of his friends appeared to notice it – or if they had, they'd put his moodiness down to the weather.

James tried to quell a strange feeling – was it jealousy? Yes, a little; but, he decided it was also loneliness. He felt left out.

Sirius and Remus had shared something special, and James hadn't been a part of it. Worse, he felt as though he'd never be a part of it. They were already lovers, which meant they shared a private bond, one deeper and more intimate than the one Sirius and James shared. But becoming Animagi would, James had imagined, level the field. They'd be equals, play with Moony together.

It had been the ultimate prank, and James hadn't been able to keep up.

He felt… inferior.

Sirius finally noticed James' mood during their final class. Remus had still felt too tired to attend, and had missed classes the rest of the day. Peter had kept up a nearly continuous stream of giddy chatter, wandering from topic to topic with no sense or cohesion, keeping Sirius annoyed and distracted. It wasn't until Sirius and James were in Arithmancy – which Peter didn't take – that they were allowed some measure of privacy.

"I don't think I've ever actually wanted to kill Peter before today," Sirius muttered to his best friend, "but if he had Arithmancy, too, I think I might have strangled him just to shut him up. What is _with_ him?"

James shrugged morosely. "Hard to say."

"Are you all right? Jamey?"

"I didn't have a good night."

"Because – because you were worried about me?" Sirius sounded startled.

James nodded. That was only part of the problem, of course, but this was hardly the time or the place to hash things out between them.

"Well, cheer up, mate, I'm alive. That thought might depress Snape but it should give you a grin."

James forced a lopsided smile. "I think I just need to sleep."

"You and me both. This heat's a monster. We should've skived off."

"Peter's back in the dorm."

"Oh, hell. Well, I'm glad we're in class, then." And after a few minutes: "Poor Remus. I hope he can sleep through all the babble."

After class, they walked back to Gryffindor Tower together, not speaking; but this time it was not the shared easy silence of the night before. Sirius was worried, but he also knew, from many years' experience, that bullying James when he was in one of these rare bad moods was pointless. James would tell him what was wrong when he felt like it, and not a moment before; all the badgering in the world wouldn't get him to confess. Peter had never lasted more than a few minutes under the pressure of Sirius' interrogations; his inability to repress his emotions was just as poor as Sirius' own. Even Remus – for whom keeping his own counsel was practically gospel –eventually relented. But James never did. So Sirius went against all his instincts, and practiced patience.

Dinner passed quietly, at least among the Marauders. Peter had excused himself to the Hufflepuff table – apparently the constant chatter during the day had been about a girl he was trying to court. James kept his silence; and Remus, who had come down from the dorm, was still spent from both the previous night's change and from playing with Padfoot. So Sirius sat in unaccustomed silence, speaking only occasionally to urge Remus to eat a little more: "Just a little chicken, Moony, or a bite of cake. You still don't look too good."

Remus gave a sudden shudder, and his fork slipped from his fingers.

"Sirius."

Sirius Black looked up, almost surprised that James had spoken. Well, it wasn't the moment he'd've chosen, but it James wanted to talk now, so be it; he'd listen.

"Yes, Jamey?"

"We should take turns looking after him tonight."

Sirius nodded his agreement, and with that, James Potter stood up, excused himself, and went back to the dorm room.

The room was unpleasantly hot and stuffy when Sirius and Remus got back to it. James was clad only in his underpants; Peter was in a pair of pajama bottoms he'd cut off just above the knee. James had opened all the windows, and drawn back the curtains around the beds, in an attempt to get air flowing through the room: weather charms had been forbidden in the dorm rooms ever since a Ravenclaw had tried to summon a wind and accidentally created a hurricane, nearly destroying half their Tower.

"It's like the heat wave in here," murmured Remus Lupin as he dropped, sitting, onto his bed.

Their third year at Hogwarts, May had been unseasonably hot – hotter than August eventually proved to be that year. In some ways, the heat wave had been a good thing: too hot to stand even the slightest amount of clothing, the boys had agreed – well, three of them had agreed, and outvoted Peter Pettigrew – that in the privacy of the dorm room, they'd go without clothing. There had been some embarrassed giggling at first, as they tried to sneak and not-sneak glances at each other's naked bodies. Sirius had solved the dilemma in typical fashion: he'd leapt up onto his bed, spread arms and legs wide apart, and shout-chanted, "Naked, naked, _naked_!" until James and Remus were nearly sick with laughter. Then each of the other two boys had done the same in turn. Embarrassment faded – at least for the three of them – and they'd grown used to the sight of each other.

They grew accustomed, too, to the changes that were happening to them, and to the idea that their bodies sometimes did embarrassing things without their willing them to.

Sirius and Remus hadn't shared a bed that month, but only because the heat was too great for physical contact. By the time the heat wave broke, James, Remus, and Sirius had reached a new level of comfort with one another, and the kind of intimacy that has little to do with sex and everything to do with brotherhood.

"I looked it up in the _Wizarding Farmer's Almanac_," said Peter Pettigrew. "They predict unseasonably hot weather for today and tonight, but it should get back to normal tomorrow."

"Do they say why it's so hot?" asked Sirius.

"Something about the moon," said Peter.

Remus sighed. "It always is, isn't it?" He shrugged out of his robes, then shed his clothing, leaving them in an uncustomarily untidy heap on the floor next to his bed. "I'm going to sleep. I'm still wrecked."

"Me, too," mumbled Peter. "I hope I don't puke from the heat."

"We'll take care of you if you do, Petey."

Remus fell asleep right away. Sirius took first watch, sitting naked on a chair he'd dragged next to his boyfriend's bed. He had a slight erection, but he didn't really feel like doing anything about it, and he certainly wasn't going to ask his exhausted lover to take care of it. He pressed a cold cloth against Remus' forehead, hoping to keep his fever down.

Night fell; the heat did not dissipate.

James, barely able to sleep in any event, made his way over to Remus' bed just after midnight. He could hear Peter snoring gently.

Sirius stood as his friend approached. They exchanged a few words – mostly on Sirius' part – and James took his place watching over Remus.

It wasn't their regular practice to watch over the werewolf after a transformation. But the year of the heat wave, the night after Remus transformed, the sweltering heat and his own post-transformation fever were nearly too much for his system. He'd started puking in his bed, but had been too exhausted to turn over; if Sirius hadn't rushed from his own bed and turned him on his side he would have choked to death. Sirius and James had moved him to Sirius' bed afterward, and spent the rest of the night keeping watch.

James watched the half-sleeping figure, drifting in thought. He began shaking, and felt tears standing in his eyes. It had been building all day, ever since he and Peter had left the Shack. James had thought, for the first time ever: _I'm not needed. Sirius and Remus have all they need with each other. Best friends, lovers, wolf and dog…_

James had looked at Peter as they walked back to the castle, and suddenly realized: _This is my future. Tagging along. Wanting to be on the inside, but always on the outside. I'll never be one of the boys again_.

_I'll never be part of the pack_.

Remus' eyes snapped open, and James almost jumped up in surprise. The werewolf's eyes glowed a weird golden color; James wasn't sure if it was the heat, if Remus was sick.

"The beta smells distressed." Lupin's voice was calm, but sounded rougher somehow.

"I – what? What did you call me?"

Remus tilted his head in a very wolflike fashion.

"I am the alpha," he said in the same voice. He indicated Sirius' bed with a nod. "There lies my mate." He caught James' eyes again. "You are the beta. If the alpha falls, the beta leads."

"Are you all right, Remus?"

"The alpha is concerned for his pack," said the werewolf. "The beta smells distressed."

A shiver ran up James' spine, despite the heat.

The heat. The heat, and the fever. James suddenly realized that the being he was talking to wasn't his schoolfriend.

It was the Wolf who lived inside him.

"The beta feels unneeded," said James softly.

The Wolf gave a snort. "If the beta was not needed, the beta would be put out of the pack." Glowing golden eyes darted to Peter's bed and back. "Even the omega is needed, and it is not as valuable as the beta."

"I – thank you," said James. He didn't know what else to say.

"The beta's distress is eased?"

"Um, yes."

"Good. The alpha requires sleep. The beta will keep watch."

The werewolf's eyes fluttered closed.

James watched his sleeping friend. In a month, two at the most, he knew he would have the Animagus transformation mastered himself. And if one Animagus had brought the Wolf this close to the surface, what would two do?

What would three?


End file.
